


My One and Only

by KnottyCricket



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Inappropriate Erections, Jon's blood is magic, Nature's Ministrations, Politics, Sea Travels, Soliloquy, Strip Tease, Wet Dream, awkward moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-19 01:45:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14864283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnottyCricket/pseuds/KnottyCricket
Summary: The timeline stretches from S7, Ep5 (Eastwatch) to Ep7 (The Dragon and The Wolf)These scenes are fillers, for what may have transpired off-screen.The story explores the huge potential S7 had if only it had 10 episodes.It is Jonerys centered (Ice and Fire).Enjoy!!!





	My One and Only

**Author's Note:**

> Your comments give me life  
> So if you can, please do.
> 
> Thanks.

The meeting ended in accord; resolving to capture a wight and to set up a secret meeting with Ser Jaime Lannister. The chamber with the painted table emptied slowly, with sluggish footsteps and low murmuring sounds. Daytime was setting and her shadow was elongating. The breeze flooding the room calmed the pounding headache, quietly erupted the almost forgotten hunger for consumables and aroused a desire to once more before dark, hear the waving waters surrounding the island.

 

Arising from her chair, and walking towards one of the pillars supporting the large view of the room, she arched her back slightly, pushing her hands to her back to arch it further, before letting out a small yawn. She looked at the distance, fixing her attention to the soundful birds roaming the skies, ruminating on her thoughts to install Lady Melissa Tarly as wardenness of the Reach; as a consolation of sorts for her losses or maybe not; it is possible that action could be perceived as insulting; she wasn’t sure yet. 

 

The few Reacher-Lords Tyrion spoke with, were too scared to do any other thing than concur by furious head nods to whatever she or Tyrion said; and that level of fear irritated her, especially when Cersei has done far worse; they should fear her more. Although, the threat of three aerial, fire-breathing beasts makes her more terrible. Who wouldn’t fear her with all that dragon fire and military might? Maybe drunken fools and over-confident airbags, but this is war, they should expect things like this to happen. Perhaps, they haven’t realized she is fighting for their freedom from a terrorist, a psychopathic authoritarian. 

 

Asides that, the unresponsiveness of The Citadel, as regards her request for a maester bothered her as well. Dragon back was an alluring place to be at, but not for a moment more than half an hour. The pains in her shoulder blades, spine, thighs and hips were testaments of this necessary discomfort, at least the pain somehow corrected the slouching Viserys always complained about and alongside gifted her with a certain feminine fitness to her physicality; her muscles wouldn’t be sagging anytime soon.

 

ΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏ

 

An hour and half had passed by then when Jon returned back to his room from the bathhouse, he dabbed his skin dry and wore his clean northern garb. He applied a bit of ointment to his palms and rubbed them furiously, and settled down on a chair to apply some on his kneecaps, ankles and feet. Afterwards, he stood, wiggled his arm to adjust his shirt properly, then slipped on his gambeson and well-polished boots. When he was done with that, he fingered his almost dried hair and tied it into a bun, and left the room.

 

Around him the buzz and hum of voices and growling of the dothraki warriors sparring and conversing leisurely blended into one solid mutter of sound which he only half-heard. His thoughts concentrated upon the heart-relieving news of his lost but found siblings, reports of Sansa’s excellent rulership and the carnal excitement over a certain regal belle that continues to heighten deep down within him in spite of his efforts to push aside these feelings.

 

His eyes found Davos and Tyrion preparing for their small mission to Kings Landing. The men wore colors that blended with darkness and secrecy. Davos loaded up a few items on their little rowboat while Tyrion exchanged a few words with the master of whisperers. They smiled to one another as they talked until Tyrion moved closer to place a hand over the spy master’s ever tucked-in forearms, and said something that caused the spy master to roll his eyes; perhaps he was making one of those his infamous cock jokes.

 

The clouds were slowly darkening, the salty water of the sea washed off the foot printed beach sands, the smell of the moving wheelbarrows of dragonglass and the general ambiance tasted like progress as he gulped down whatever lingered at the back of his throat. 

 

He nodded farewell to Davos and Tyrion who were already on the waters by then, he watched them sail further and further into the distance when someone passed by his view, it was the spy master. He and Varys exchanged nodded greetings and fake smiles, before he walked on. A few moments went by before he tore his eyes from the waters to resume his strolling. Jorah was a few feet away from him speaking with one of her bloodriders. He was casually walking by, towards the direction of the caves where his own men worked hard all through the day, when Jorah’s voice sounded.

 

‘Your grace, if I may have a word?’

He stopped in his tracks and waited for them to meet him.

‘Qhono here, says he would like you to come to tonight’s bonfire grappling match.’ Jon shifted his gaze to Qhono. Sensing that he needed more convincing he further explained. ‘It’s just something the dothraki like to do after a battle. And with Her Grace’s potential alliance to your cause, the men figured that they should get to know you and you them.’

 

Jon lifted his eyebrows as he turned to look at Jorah and then back up at Qhono with slightly serious eyes, with that, he slowly and slightly flexed the corners of his mouth, before nodding in acceptance.

 

Qhono nodded back and left. Jorah offered to walk with him to the caves. They made small talk as they walked before they separated, when Jon reached his destination. The northerners welcomed their king with smiles plastered over their tired faces. They had made much progress with the work, so he ordered them to halt all activities and rest themselves. They trooped out one by one, carefully laying down their digging tools in a spot and bowing as they exited.

 

He looked around the areas they dug, he was navigating through the scattered pieces of dragonglass when his eyes caught a tiny asparagus-colored creeper, growing on the side of the wall with the white walker engravings. He squinted and crouched to get a closer look. It was plantlike, with sharp thin leaves. It looked choked growing through a very small hole on a cracked dragonglass at the base of the wall. He ungloved his hand to remove a movable piece where it grew, to create more breathing space for the plant. When his fingertips came in contact with a leaf, it cut open his index finger flesh. He groaned slightly and took his injured finger to his mouth. The drops of blood on the leaves of the plant slowly turned the stained areas blue. He was shocked; snapping his brows together, he stood from his crouching position. His glance shifted from his wounded finger to the plant. He left soon after, and inhaled sharply as soon as he was out of the cave.

 

ΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏ

 

Her fingers caressed the stony platform of the parapet, as she listened to the wind, her hair and light neck collar lauding at the majestic presence of serenity. Her ears perked up to the rhythmic swell of the waves, her nose flaring to inhale the fresh, briny smell of the sea, her head streaming thoughts of positivity. 

 

‘Amazing thing to see.’ Jon voiced a few inches away from her.

She was slightly startled, she contemplated showing her displeasure towards him for distracting her from nature’s ministrations before turning to face him; but at the last moment chose to maintain her calm face.

‘Lord Snow.’ She acknowledged, before turning back to face the sea.

‘Your grace.’ He said with the faintest of smiles. He was nearing her by then, as soon as he got close enough the strong smell of jasmine and sweet orange attacked his senses. ‘Gods!’ Jon thought to himself. His nose basked in the pleasure of inhaling her fresh and energizing scent. His eyes involuntarily travelled down the length of her form. Her shiny charcoal evening gown was fitted to her waist, then flaring down till her feet disappeared.

 

‘The weather is nice.’ Jon started.

‘Yes it is.’

‘The men discovered a different color of dragonglass today, the color green.’

She raised her eyebrows and turned her head a bit to his side. ‘They did? What do you make of it?’

‘I’m not sure yet, but I sent word to my friend at the citadel to find any information on it.’

‘Speaking of the citadel…’ She said flatly before continuing. ‘… They have refused to respond to my request for a maester.’

Jon chuckled.

‘You find my words amusing?’ She said with a hint of seriousness.

Jon’s smile collapse slightly. ‘No, no, I don’t. It’s just that people over the years haven’t been fond of your family. And. Your dragons. Your armies. Strikes fear in the heart.’

She scoffed. ‘I came to relieve the country from Cersei.’

‘Give it time.’

She sighed at his response.

 

The conversation went on smoothly for a few minutes like butter on unleavened bread, until he suddenly stretched his hand as if to grab her teats, Dany slapped his hands with a frownful face and firmly questioned, ‘What do you think you’re doing!?

 

Suddenly realizing where his hands were initially reaching for, he apologized with a half serious face.

‘Have you lost your mind!? Don’t! Ever! Do that, again!’ She said sternly with a slightly shaky voice.

‘I was just trying to remove your newly attached accessory right there.’ He said gesticulating with his head and brows.

‘What accessory?’ She said sarcastically, before descending her eyes to her bosom. She saw a copper-colored thing perched there, she immediately flinched. Her silly attempts at disengaging what looked to be an insect resulted in it falling inside her dress. Jon wanted to help, but the awkwardness was hilariously overwhelming, he nearly smiled; then in frustration she yanked the top of her dress, exposing the top of her sizeable firmness to him, his jaw dropped.

 

She swiftly turned away from him, bent forward to brush the part where she felt it move, and eventually removed the thing and flung it. Jon was gawking like a fool, his arousal fattened with speed, his breathing ragged. The wolf inside him howled in celebration, for that his wet dream had just come true. 

 

Clasping her dress was no use because some hooks had gone missing, placing her palm across the exposed part, she turned to find Jon’s face dark, dark with mad lust; or so she thought. For a moment she was thought he was considering taking her right there, not that she would have minded, she wanted it in fact, with him. It had been a while a man’s taken her in the dothraki fashion, under the skies for the whole world to see.

 

Who would judge them? They were man and woman after all, on her island, surrounded with coitally-indiscriminative people; and even better, they were king and queen. She descended her eyes to check if his wand spoke the same as his eyes, but nay, she saw nothing. Unknown to her, Jon had already straightened his plumb when she faced away from him, to struggle with her unruly milk bags. 

 

Her cheeks colored a bit, she was undecided at what embarrassed her the most: her, acting like a shy silly maiden or her, misreading his expressions or the possible fact that he may be toying with her and she fell right into it. Jon backed away a bit, threw away his face to the side, to give her some privacy. She raised her chin high and spoke.

 

‘If you would excuse me.’

He turned to face her. ‘Of course. Your grace.’ His face resumed its usual brooding form. He watched her leave, her rear arresting his attention all the way until she couldn’t be seen. Jon turned to face the waters, and muttered curses, chiding himself for his ungentlemanly behavior.

 

The night had fully set when he left, to honor Qhono’s invitation, he crossed paths with Theon Greyjoy on his way, but paid him no mind and walked past him. The bonfire gathering was eventful and the dothraki were friendly, at least some were; he drank a bit, playfully tussled a bit and chatted with some young bloodriders, Davro and Rhodorro, with Jorah’s help. He enjoyed the company of these men, they reminded him of his friends: Grenn and pyp. 

 

Tyrion and Davos returned the following day’s afternoon, having successfully executed their mission. Dany intentionally avoided Jon to give herself time to overcome the inconvenience of their earlier interaction, until the day and moment he was bound for Eastwatch. 

 

ΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏ

 

In the later afternoon of their fourth day at sea, they arrived Eastwatch, which looked emptied of all the previous fisherfolk and traders habiting there. Upon his entry into the castle, the powdered grounds swallowed his feet, light snowdrops sprinkled over his neatly tied hair and dark, furry cloak. His former night’s watch brothers stepped out to watch their commander receive their previous lord commander and his company. 

 

The few hours before he retired for the day was unnervingly slow; meeting the brotherhood, reacquainting himself with the other wildlings and the nights watch men. In the end, everything was smooth as the surface of well-polished brass. 

 

Then it started again, the wet dreams, waking in the middle of the night with a painfully swollen member, in spite of the cold; he was going to need a woman soon. It was useless trying to go back to sleep, or pouring cold water on himself or stroking himself. As a last resort he decided to leave his quarters for a stroll. There was hardly anyone awake, save for the men on guard duty. He walked up to the topmost balcony, Tormund was there, drinking sour goat’s milk, and there they talked for a while, then some moments later when his eyelids started to kiss, he went back to his room.

 

The following morning he parked a few things for his expedition, hoping not to be there longer than a few days. He contemplated sending Daenerys a message before leaving, but soon shunned the idea, thinking it would be unnecessary to inform an already informed person of his whereabouts.

 

ΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏ

 

The message from Eastwatch arrived Dragonstone almost two days later, Varys and Tyrion debated on whether if delaying the information would be in the best interests of their cause, seeing that their queen has impulsive behaviors. Tyrion expressed how tense things already are between them, but in the end Varys’s encouraging words about how the influence of the northern king over their queen might be instrumental to the success of their mission to sit her on the throne.

 

‘What? They are in danger?’ She said almost wide eyed.

‘Yes, your grace, but I really think we shouldn’t make hasty decisions over… ’ Tyrion was talking as he struggled to catch up with a fast walking Daenerys.

‘They need my help.’ She finally said as she reached her chambers and promptly shut the door when Missandie entered.

 

He waited out the corridor of her room for a while. ‘Women.’ He thought to himself. ‘If only they wouldn’t take so much time to ready themselves…’ His thoughts was cut off when he saw her in a white furry garb, that flattered her shape and silver hair. ‘Gods! Do you plan on seducing the dead?’ He almost said out loud. 

 

He walked beside her and asked her if she had a plan. Her rush-rush strategy didn’t please him at all.

‘You can’t. The most important person in the world can’t fly off to the most dangerous place in the world.’

‘Who else can?’

‘No one. They knew the risks when they left.’ He paused a bit before continuing. ‘You can’t win the throne if you’re dead. You can’t break the wheel if you’re dead.’

‘Then what will you have me do?’ She turned to look at him with her hand leisurely gripping one of Drogon’s spikes.

‘Nothing. Sometimes nothing is the hardest thing to do.’

Dany breathed out as she looked away. ‘I am doing this to save Jon-ah, I mean Jorah. And the other… men’ She tried to convince herself. Her reasons were lame and obvious, and she knew not why she was so drawn to this man, Jon Snow. 

‘If you die, we’re all lost. Everyone. Everything.’ 

 

Her legs were itching to take off and be gone from Tyrion’s very sane advising presence, but no, her heart wouldn’t let her head win this time. ‘You told me to do nothing before and I listened to you. I am not doing nothing again.’ As soon as she said it, Drogon growled as if to concur with her. He has been dispirited these past few days, and frankly Rheagal and Viserion were too, but they wouldn’t go anywhere without their mother, so when this opportunity came, for all three to go, they rejoiced.

 

‘Oh thank the gods. I wasn’t too late.’ She thought to herself as she rained fire on the purposeless creatures. When she landed, the men were so mesmerized by the dragons and the dragon fire that no one thought to warn her of the presence of the night king. When she finally landed, her outstretched hand was ignored by the one man she flew all these way for. He continued to move further and further from the dragon, perhaps to show her how effective he is with a blade; but unfortunately, the night king crashed his moment.

 

ΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏ

 

Half an hour had passed since she landed in Eastwatch. After briefly speaking with the commander of Eastwatch, she informed Jorah she wanted to look around if she would find him. He wanted to quietly protest, but her glassy eyes stopped him. He asked to accompany her, and to bring Anguy with them, the archer for the brotherhood. Anguy hadn’t accompanied the others because of his watery bowels that started the day before Jon’s arrival. 

 

She flew only with Drogon, away from the range of a projectile attack; Anguy, positioned himself with his bow and dragonglass tipped arrow ready to fire, even though seeing through the thick snow was a challenge coupled with the fact that he wasn’t sure if he might even reach them from that distance; but he just wanted to be supportive after he heard of the queen’s recent misfortune with her dragon. Jorah was alert as well, but utterly useless combat-wise atop a dragon, with his dragonglass daggers; but regardless, his eyes were useful for watching out for Jon. When they reached the lake, the wights were still there, but no night king, no white walkers either. She couldn’t risk flying any lower, so she gave up when they saw no signs of Jon. 

 

She dropped off Anguy at Eastwatch so that he could go ahead with Sandor and the wight they caught to Dragonstone, then she flew to Castle Black with Jorah. The newly elected lord commander, Ed welcomed her, and there she stayed for a bit, informing him who she was and her goal to claim the seven kingdoms. She assured him of her support in the fight against the dead, and informed him of Castle Black’s share of the food supplies she donated to the night’s watch at Eastwatch. They talked briefly of Jon as well, before she took her leave.

 

When she was back at Eastwatch, she instructed Jorah to inform whoever that followed them to ready themselves within the hour, then she went to the balcony, desiring to gaze upon the expanse of the things on the other side of the wall. Sadness formed her face once more, thinking of the things she had lost. Jorah joined her close to an hour later,  
‘It’s time to go your grace.’ He said.

 

‘A bit longer.’

 

She looked on, till she finally accepted that he was gone. She was walking away when the horns suddenly blared and she slowly walked back frontwards. A horse with an unconscious rider was slowly riding back to the gates, her heart leaped for joy.

 

ΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏ

 

She had just left his cabin, when the pain in his sides began. He tried to move himself a bit to sit up, but his aching waist was slowing him until he finally succeeded. He stayed put in his sitting position, groaning slightly as he inspected the small scrapes in his left forearm and bandaged palm; one of the wights cut him good when he tried securing the captured one. He sighed to himself once more.

 

‘What was I thinking? That they will come to see her for what she is? Really?’ He soliloquizes. He lifted his other hand to rub his eyes, before hissing in frustration at his action. 

 

‘The northerners aren’t like the southerners, father used to say.’ He was thinking to himself now. ‘Have I done the right thing by trading my kingship in exchange for the lives of the north men? Is Daenerys deserving of my honesty or does she deserve to be played? After all, she wouldn’t harm me. She seems predisposed towards me. Stop it! You aren’t a deceiver. You are the son of an honorable man and as such you must live up to the moral expectations he raised you up with; besides, she saved your life. But, this is politics and this sort of politicking is dirty and bloody. 

 

Remember what Orell said about how people work together when it suits them, kill each other when it suits them, and love each other when it suits them. He wasn’t wrong; look where inflexibity got father and Robb. Oh stop! Gods! Help me!’ The devil and angel hovering on each side of his shoulder debated till a startling knock poofed them away.

 

‘Yer grace. Are you awake?’ Davos’s flea bottom-accented voice sounded on the other side of the door.

‘Aye. Come in.’

The door creaked open. ‘I thought I might bring you midday’s meal. Are you hungry?’

Jon sighed in relief. ‘You have no idea.’

Davos smiled at his response and walked over to hand him the bowl of cooked rice and mutton, before dragging a stool to sit by his bed. He tee-heed at the speed at how he devoured his meal; when he was almost done, he quizzed, ‘How are you feeling?’

Jon looked up from his bowl. ‘Better. But, I feel slightly numb around my legs and my waist. Plus, my back hurts badly.’

‘I will get you a balm for that and rub you there.’

Jon looked embarrassed. ‘There is no need.’

‘There’s no need? Okay. You can be a man about it if you want and wallow in pain.’ 

‘Get me the balm then, but I’ll apply it myself. It’s already awkward enough that you have seen more of my body than any woman alive has.’

‘If you insist, then. Or… I could just get the queen to come here, again. So you can ask her if she’d be willing to… help.’

‘Davos!’

They both lightly chortled.

‘Enough teasing alright. Tell me, what happened back at Eastwatch?’

 

Davos went ahead to tell him of what transpired between Daenerys and the nights watch men and the rumors he heard as regards Winterfell. Jon in return told him of his escape from the lake, how his uncle sacrificed his life for his. They conversed for a short while before Jon decided he was tired.

 

ΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏ

 

Dany awoke a bit late the following day, she stepped out to the deck to get some ocean breeze after taking her bath. She was enjoying the view of nature’s wonders and the sounds of her dragon’s shrills when a lad came to her.

‘Pardon me, yer grace. Ser Davos requests yer presence.’

She turned to look at him. ‘Where is he?’

‘In His Grace’s cabin.’

‘Has something happened?’

‘His Grace is not feeling well, yer grace.’ 

 

His accent piques her interest to ask him this, ‘Are you from Kings Landing?’

‘Yes. Flea bottom.’ He was answering as they walked towards Jon’s cabin

‘What’s your name?’

‘Gendry, yer grace.’

‘I have been seeing your face around. How did you get here?’

‘Ser Davos came to visit me at my shop when he was at Kings Landing.’

‘Your shop?’

‘I’m a blacksmith, yer grace. But I can fight as well, so he asked me if I would want to join the fight against the dead and I accepted.’

Dany looked impressed by his chivalry and diligence. ‘And what is Ser Davos to you?’

‘He is a friend. He saved my life many years ago.’

 

They had reached Jon’s cabin by then. ‘Keep up with the good work, Gendry.’ He smiled and bowed.

 

The air is Jon’s cabin smelled like puke. A wet towel was placed over his head, his closed eyes moved restlessly and his teeth chattered.

‘Yer grace.’

‘What is wrong with him?’

‘Fever.’

‘Since when?’

‘Early this morning. We don’t have any medicine on this ship. The concoctions I made with the herbs and spices we have, he retched them all.’

She moved to place the back of her hands on his neck; his body was burning. The breeze she created when she moved towards him, gave Davos an idea.

‘Pardon yer grace, but is that lavender I smell there?’

‘Yes. Why?’

‘Some locals in Volantis used it to cure fever.’

‘How do you know this?’ She quizzed, taking the towel off his forehead to clean the sides of his mouth.

‘I used to be a smuggler.’

‘Okay. I’ll get some.’ She replied, handing him the towel.

‘Thank you, yer grace.’

 

In a few hours, Jon’s fever broke. The lads helped change the sheets and clean the mess on the floor; Davos supervised them as they worked. Within the hour, Davos woke Jon so he would nibble on something. He ate little, and took a slice of ginger at the end of it to calm the urge to hurl again. He sat up for a while for the food to digest, before sliding back into the bed to sleep. He slept peacefully, but woke at intervals to eat some more and to take a piss; Gendry attended to him through the night.

 

ΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏ

 

Jon woke stronger than he was yesterday, his temperature was back to normal and his appetite was slowly returning. But, his bedridden state bored him, so when Davos came visiting, he asked if he had any book he could read to pass the time and luckily Davos travelled with some of Princess Shireen’s books; it was what he used to remember her. He was surprised at his request because he didn’t know Jon to be a reader, but still he was happy that his king was imbibing good habits.

 

‘A history of Aegon the Conqueror.’ He read aloud and hissed when he was done. ‘Don’t you have something else?’

‘No. Read it. It might be useful. You never know.’

‘Yes, father.’ He says playfully.

Davos tittered. ‘I’ll leave you to it then. I brought some stewed snails and fried plantains. It’s covered in that dish ware, there.’ He said pointing to the table where it was.

‘Thank you. But, fried plantains? I don’t think I should eat that.’

‘It will get your strength up.’

‘Okay. Maester Davos.’

‘Anywho, just ensure you eat something. I’ll be back later.’ With that he exited.

 

Nightfall has just barely emerged when the skies was stabbed with thunderbolts, but the winds and everything was calm. A knock came and he answered, trying to put his shirt on from his sitting position on the bed.

‘Your grace.’ He acknowledged. 

‘Lord Snow.’ She responded. ‘How are you feeling?

‘Much better. Please sit.’

‘Thank you.’ She said, settling down on the stool by the bed.

‘We would arrived Dragonstone in two days, I’m told.’

‘Yes.’

 

Awkward silence ensues.

 

‘You read?’ She wondered, finally breaking the unnecessary silence.

‘Not really. But, I think I might enjoy doing it often, now that i have tried it.’

She stretched her hand to receive the book from Jon. ‘Hmm… You’re reading about my famed ancestor?’

‘Yes. Aegon Targaryen, first of his name, King of the Andals.' After a beat he continued. 'He was a visionary.’

‘You admire him?’

‘I do. But, really what is with Targaryens and interbreeding?’

She scoffed.

‘I hope I havnt given offence?’

‘No. None. It’s just something my brother used to say that came to mind.’

Jon responded with a curious face.

‘The dragon doesn’t mate with lesser animals.’ She mimicked Viserys’s voice. ‘The blood line must be kept pure.’ 

‘That is a strange family tradition to keep.’

‘I suppose.’

‘This man, your brother. Where is he?’

‘Dead.’

‘I’m sorry about that.’

‘Don’t be. Viserys wasn’t particularly very sane; I’m sorry to speak ill of the dead, but it’s true.’

 

After a beat, she inquired, ‘How did you become king?’

‘Same way you became queen, just without dragons.’

Dany giggled. This was the first time he heard her giggle and he discovered he liked it; the sound of it, the flash of her white teeth and the curve of her lips when it widened in amusement.

He continued, ‘Ramsey Bolton, the son of my brother’s banner man had my little brother, Rickon. He was only eleven.’

‘Did you eventually get him…?’

‘No.’ Jon shook his head. ‘He died.’

‘I’m sorry.’ 

Jon nodded.

 

For nervous reasons, Jon was sweating furiously, he wasn’t even aware he was sweating that much till Dany drew his attention to it.

‘Why are you sweating? The weather is cool.’

‘I…’

‘Are you alright?’ She quizzed, arising from the stool to feel his body temperature.’  
The feel of her soft palms on this neck and face stirred up his member. It was erected almost instantly. He tried to move his hand to covered it, but Dany sat on the bed to inspect him as if she was some of sort of nursemaid.

‘I’m fine really.’ Jon chuckled, lightly struggling to get away from her very sensual presence, cleverly twisting his legs to cover up his erection.

Dany dropped her hands from his face and smiled shyly.

‘You and Davos are the worst, treating me like I’m a newborn.’

‘Well, if you didn’t look so mushy and pretty then perhaps you won’t be treated as one.’

‘Gods! She thinks I’m pretty.’ He thought to himself, his heart soared at the thought that she found him attractive. 

‘Please!’ He said out loud in a baritone voice. ‘Have you seen my beards?’ He hinted playfully, showing her his facial hair.

 

They both laughed, until they felt their faces came together. His lips were mere inches from hers now, he titled his head lightly and plastered his mouth to hers. They kissed for a bit, testing each other’s lips, before finally giving into a long kiss. Her palm found his face. A hand of his crept up the back of her neck to massage it; the other hand gripped his length, before carefully reaching for a folded bedcover to cover his desire. 

 

They were getting to a point of no return so he withdrew. Dany was a bit surprised but she understood his apprehension. She faced down to gather her thoughts, before looking back up at him to say, ‘You should get some rest.’ With that she stood.

 

Jon watched her leave, unable to say anything to stop her. When the door closed behind her, he muttered curses to himself.

 

ΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏ

 

The following day, Dany stayed in her cabin all morning, breaking her fast with Jorah. They talked about her victory over slavery in the Bay of Dragons, they talked of Daario, her lost Tyrell, Greyjoy and Martell allies, her warring with the Lannisters and the army of the dead.

 

‘How you cured your ailment, I never asked.’

Jorah smiled. ‘Its not a stomach-friendly tale I assure you.’

‘Tell me still,’

‘After scouring for every healer I could find in the east, I decided to come west, to the Citadel. And there I was quarantined for weeks until a student from the Citadel took special interest in me because he knew my father and wanted to repay him for saving his life during an expedition beyond the wall, many years ago.’ 

‘Who is this lad?’

‘He is a brother of the nights watch you see, training to be a maester at Castle Black. Jon should know him. He said his name was Samwell. Samwell Tarly.’

Dany gasped slightly and her forehead puckered. ‘Tarly?'

‘Yes. Do you… Do you know him?’

‘No. But, I may have met his relatives, Randyll and Dickon.’

‘That’s his father and brother.’ 

‘My, my!’ She heaved heavily.

‘What is it?’

‘They died when I fought at the battle of the Blackrush. They were siding with Cersei. I gave him a choice and he refused… So I… ‘

Jorah’s face encouraged her to say it all.

‘I burned him. Both of them.’

Jorah groaned.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t know. Tyrion tried to plead on their behalf, but I wouldn’t listen. What do I tell this Samwell, if I meet him?'

‘Don’t worry. You don’t have to do it alone. I will help, if you want me to.’

Dany nodded and reached for his hand to squeeze it gently.

 

The rest of the day was uneventful, but was filled with meaningful conversations and reveals especially between Jon and Gendry, when he told him that he met with Arya. They talked of her fondly until the day collapsed into night. Gendry also shared his new weapons design sketchings with Jon and Davos. 

 

ΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏ

 

They all arrived Dragonstone, late in the following day’s morning. Jon shared a few words with Tyrion and Sandor, before going to the caves to check on his men. He remembered the plantlike thing that cut him the last time he was there, so he went to where he would find it. The plant was wilted already, broken up and scattered over the ground like tiny pieces of ice crystals. He picked one in his gloved hand, it glittered in his hand. He took it with him and left the cave. He held up the thin-sheeted whitish thingy up the sun, it heated up instantly, nearly burned through his glove before he threw it to the ground and squashed it under his boots.

 

He left to write his letter to Sansa and do other things in preparation for his journey north, should the armistice become a success. 

 

ΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏ

 

She was speaking privately with Tyrion and Varys over their recent activities while she was away. Tyrion had successfully reached Alana Tyrell, a cousin to the former queen Margaery, and with her help they had united almost every house in the Reach to Dany’s cause in exchange for appointing her brother, Auster Tyrell, the new lord of Highgarden. They would be meeting him, when they returned from the armistice tomorrow. 

 

Tyrion also with Varys's help contacted the Dornish who have united under the fifth daughter of Prince Oberyn Martell, Elia. They agreed to help once they secured Ellaria and Tyene’s release. Varys’s little birds had already informed him of their whereabouts in the black cells and he was currently working on their escape. 

 

Dany was over thankful for their diligence and unwavering faith in her. Then, Varys broke the bad news of Tyene’s poisoning, of how she might already be dead and possibly Yara too. But, she insisted that they try and rescue them regardless, even if they were dead. They would send their body to their respective homes as a sign of goodwill.

 

She later sent for Theon. They talked a bit. She assured him her continual support of his sister’s claim to the Iron Islands and would do everything she can to secure her freedom discreetly. 

 

ΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏ

 

The Dragon Pit meeting eventually ended amicably after Tyrion worked his magic over his shortsighted sister. When Cersei and her company of black and gold clothed escorts departed, Dany and her entourage slowly made their way out of the pit. She was tempted to take her time to admire the city, but resisted the urge to. Jon suddenly realized that he and Dany walked closely in front, together, with guards by their sides, almost like man and wife, like king and queen. Passerby’s watched in admiration, some even dared to bow in appreciation of this regal pair. 

 

They eventually made it all back to Dragonstone at different times. Everyone packed their belongings and essentials. Every meeting that could be held took place. Dany instructed five thousand of the dothraki riders to stay behind, to guard the castle. 

 

Jon and Theon finally had a conversation that didn’t involve threats or insults. Frankly, Jon felt lighter after settling things with Theon and saying those encouraging words to him. 

 

Within a few hours, everyone that was to leave, left.

 

ΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏΏ

 

All the who’s who bordered the same ship and there Dany met with Lady Brienne of Tarth. They talked of trivialities. Missandie joined them as well.

 

Jon was in the company of the men on the bulwarks: Sandor, Anguy, Tyrion, Gendry; Podrick, Rhodorro, Jorah, Varys, Greyworm and Davos. They talked, laughed and some drank.

 

When, everywhere quietened, Jon made his way to her cabin. He stood at the door for a few, heaving heavily, before raising his fist to knock. She answered the door almost immediately. His heart was pounding when her eyes met his.

 

He stepped through and shut the door. He closed the space between the bodies. He mouth descended and captured hers. Longing flooded his senses. He wanted her, only her. He sensed her surrender instantly before her fingers tangled in his hair. It will always be this way between them. He vowed it always will be.

 

Her naked body was everything he dreamt of and wanted in a woman, his woman. Everything in the right proportion, standing. When they managed to land on the bed after toppling some of the things in her cabin, he ran his fingers along the smoothness of her skin. She shuddered against him. Her head fell back and her eyes closed. With carefulness, he parted her legs and tried to sheathe himself, but her entrance won’t bulge easily in spite of its wetness. And she was no maiden, he knew that. Following her eyes, he walked to her shelf of oils, picked one and joined her back on the bed.

 

He sat on his heels to oil his length and her womanhood delicately. Her soft gasps excited him. He stroked the still-erect nipple before bending and taking her swollen flesh into his mouth. After a while, he flattened himself on her, parted her legs and entered her completely. He pulled her closer and began a languid, slow movement. He noticed the side of his cheek was wet. She softly wept as he lunged. 

 

Driven by more than his own passion, he increased the pace until she screamed and her nails dug viciously into the skin of his back. He kept pumping and she kept begging for more. He gave her everything he had and more. After rounds of jamming parts and taking turns, they collapsed on their sides. He dragged a lazy hand to tuck away the hair from her ear and whispered, ‘My one and only.’ before passing out shortly after.


End file.
